False Hope
by DarkLightningEnvy
Summary: Emily gets distracted while holding onto false hope. Emily/Andrea, Emily/Miranda, Emily/Andrea/Miranda. Don't like? Don't read. Reviews appreciated.


1.

The look on Andrea's face was enough to throw the Brit through a serious loop. The sincere confusion in her voice just made it worse.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Emily swallowed and squared her shoulders, pausing between the elevator doors and throwing her best scathing look over her shoulder.

"I hate everyone, Andrea."

The elevator doors closed with a click.

2.

Of all nights to get stuck in Miranda's Mercedes with Andrea, it had to be the worst night of Emily's entire life.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it like that," Andrea said quietly as Miranda slammed the door and huffed up to her townhouse. Emily turned a numb look on the brunette, and Andrea visibly winced.

"When Miranda insults someone, she usually means it," Emily replied. "Surely you know that by now."

"But aren't you two –"

"No," Emily snapped. A skeptical look from Andrea caused her to roll her eyes and add, "Not anymore."

Blissful silence fell. It didn't last long; Emily hadn't expected it to.

"I'm sorry."

Emily turned her glare out the window. "Me too."

3.

How had she ended up here? Her back arched off of the glass beneath her, her fingers curling around the edge of her desk. She hadn't meant to moan as enthusiastically as she had; Emily hadn't let anyone but Miranda know how much she enjoyed the attention she was given.

The brunette between her legs rewarded her for such enthusiasm, however, and Emily began to wonder if enjoying this was such a bad thing. Andrea's lips closed over Emily's clit, and the wretched woman actually _sucked_. Another strangled moan escaped Emily's throat, and she ground down against the mouth assaulting her.

"The – The Book," Emily panted suddenly, pushing herself onto her elbows on her desk. "Andrea, The Book."

Andrea lifted her head from Emily's embarrassingly wet core and licked her swollen lips, her eyes glazed in pure lust. The sight made Emily want to whimper.

"It's eight thirty," Andrea breathed. "We still have thirty minutes."

Eight thirty? They'd been at this for two hours? How many times had Emily come? Andrea's tongue slammed against Emily's clit, two fingers pushed past her entrance, and it suddenly didn't matter anymore.

4.

"What is this?"

The voice didn't register in Emily's head right away. Andrea's tongue and fingers disappeared abruptly, and Emily let out a sigh of frustration; she was so close, damnit. Andrea had to know that by how insistently Emily had started writhing on her fingers, how raggedly she had begun breathing. She shoved up onto her elbows to snarl at the girl, but any words she may have been forming choked in her throat when she caught sight of the figure standing in the door of the main office.

Miranda Priestly unfolded her arms and moved casually into the office, her eyes never leaving the sight before her. Emily could only imagine how they looked right now; her with her black Gucci skirt shoved up over her hips, her underwear lost somewhere on the floor, her hair standing all over the place. Andrea with her white button up blouse half open, revealing ivory lace underneath, her full lips swollen, her eyes wild. What the hell had possessed Emily to okay this kind of behavior in the office? Miranda was going to fire both of them, and Emily had worked too hard at this job for that.

But Miranda didn't look angry. She looked interested. Aroused. Emily knew that look well, and in this situation, it scared her.

"M-Miranda," Andrea stuttered, clearly shocked. Emily, whose thighs were still wrapped around Andrea's neck, dug a Nine West heel into the girl's shoulders to shut her up.

"By all means," Miranda said softly, pulling Andrea's chair out from behind her desk and lowering herself into it gracefully. "Continue."

Emily blinked at Miranda, whose eyes were boring into hers intently. There was no jealousy, like Emily had expected (or, more realistically, hoped); but there was the lust she had looked at Emily with in the past. Emily lowered her eyes to Andrea, who was looking at her uncertainly. The redhead nodded once, and Andrea bit her lower lip nervously. Emily almost rolled her eyes; instead, she dug her heel sharper into the woman's shoulder, causing her to hiss softly. It got the point across, however; Andrea came up off of her heels, balancing herself on her knees, and pushed Emily backwards. Two fingers thrust deep inside of her, and Emily whimpered, arching her hips.

This continued for several moments, Andrea building Emily back up, until she felt like she was going to tumble over the edge. It wasn't enough, however; Emily panted, writhed, moaned, and came very close to actually whining, but she couldn't get there. Andrea appeared sincerely frustrated that she wasn't helping. Both had almost forgotten about Miranda's presence, until she spoke quietly.

"Use your tongue, Andrea. Circle her clit and crook both of your fingers within her."

Andrea frowned, but complied. Her lips clamped over Emily's clit once again, and her tongue swirled around it urgently, while she turned her fingers palm up and crooked them twice. Spots exploded in front of Emily's eyes, and her whole body convulsed; she came hard with a shout.

Several minutes later, Emily's eyes fluttered; she had passed out. Miranda had always been the only one to knock her out with an orgasm. Well, until tonight, apparently. Pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the desk, Emily glanced around; Andrea was leaning silently against her own desk, and Miranda was still seated silently, watching Emily with the same interest she had expressed upon walking in.

What the bloody hell was supposed to happen now?

Glancing at the time, Emily cursed under her breath; The Book was expected in five minutes. Sliding off of the desk, Emily retrieved her underwear and slipped them back on, then began gathering items she had thrown to the floor earlier. Andrea moved forward to help, but Emily slapped at her hands.

"Stop it, you've done enough tonight," Emily hissed, reorganizing everything. She pointedly ignored the stung look on the brunette's face.

Finally, Miranda rose, returning the chair to its place behind Andrea's desk. Smoothing a hand over her black vest, she fixed Andrea with her gaze.

"I'll get The Book myself. Go home."

Andrea nodded, grabbing her coat out of the closet and shooting a look at Emily. "Good night," she muttered, and then disappeared, leaving Emily alone with the Dragon Lady.

Miranda placed a hand on her hip and flicked her eyes over Emily's form. "Go home."

A surge of bravery overtook Emily, and she folded her arms. "What was your purpose in watching this?"

Miranda's brow lifted just slightly. "Don't reject other opportunities because of false hope, Emily."

Emily winced; that was all she needed to hear. With a slow nod, she retrieved her coat and bag. "Good night, Miranda."

There was no response.


End file.
